Cold War II
by AizenIsMyBro801
Summary: Ivan and Alfred are at it again, but this time, there's a real war going on. An unexpected 3rd party starts a fight, and they might actually have to work together to stop them- Yeah right, never in a million years! 50/50 chance of yaoi.


A/N: mwahahaha~! Cold War II, except there's a higher nuclear threat from both sides and there's actual fighting going on. Rated for language and possible…stuff. Idk. We will see how it goes! :D

This is also a thank-you gift…story…present….w/e you want it to be, for those who reviewed and/or faved TFS 3

Alfred spotted those all-too-familiar blips on the airspace radar he was standing over. The man in the chair in front of him frantically looked to his Captain. Mark was a newbie to the navy, and this was his first time seeing this many jets flying right at the ship.

"C-Captain Jones…it's.."

"Russians. I know."

"Sir, what are we going to do—"

" They're not coming at us really fast, so we can do this, alright, newbie?"

"Y-Yes, s-sir…!" He straightened up as best as he could and turned to his partner with hopes in hearing some comforting and reassuring words from someone who was closer to him, who spent more time with him.

America was not focused on neglecting his crew at the moment, so he ignored it.

Alfred quickly examined the coordinates that the poor boy's partner, Michael, was copying down on a piece of paper from routine, and he climbed up two ladders to get outside onto the deck.

"They're pretty far away…" He looked around, hearing nothing but the waves crashing against the ship and its crew, making a big fuss over the Russian aircraft heading right towards them.

Alfred grabbed the binoculars around his neck and moved his glasses down a bit to see properly. Yep, it was the Russians, all right. He knew those futuristic-looking jets anywhere. Onyx-black with bright gold and gray on the sides.

Ivan must have gotten tired of waiting for Alfred to attack and decided to come at the American himself.

They still didn't look like they were very close, so they had time to prepare for an attack. He had confronted them before, but never on a ship. " It shouldn't be too hard. There are only six of them." He smirked, perfectly relaxed.

Alfred dropped the binoculars and was about to turn around when he suddenly heard the jets as if they were right in front of him, less than half a mile away.

He looked through them again and realized that he was holding the binoculars backwards before. They had gained speed in only a minute or two and they were obviously locking their targets.

Alfred began to yell commands to the members on deck and they easily got to their assigned stations, eagerly waiting for permission to fire and attack. Why, all of a sudden, did this become a big deal?

His stomach burned with fear, the kind that makes you wish that you were home under your blanket in the dark, protected by everything but you know, at the back of your mind, you're not very safe at all.

He ran back and jumped down instead of climbing down the ladder, barking commands to the ones in that room and to the ones that could hear his voice. They were getting a call from the Russians and two men were ready to answer it but Alfred shoved them out of the way and held down an orange-lit button, angrily yelling into the microphone.

" It's now or never, ya damn commie!" Alfred still preferred to use his communist nickname.

"Now or never, you say, Captain Jones?" That cool, relaxed, yet menacing voice replied, the Russian's r's rolling so nicely.

"Damn right! I'm not here to play nice or play right so I'd suggest that if ya wanna stay alive, then ya better beat it or I'll shoot ya out of the sky right now!"

"Scary, scary…" He chuckled. A few seconds passed and a loud crash came down and shook the ship.

Texas flew off, and he caught them in mid-air. He pressed down on the button again, smiling nervously, ready to fight.

"Alright, then, Ivan…ya asked for it!" He released the button and made everyone who wasn't on radar duty( or technical stuff like that) get their butts outside to man the guns and other weapons. They weren't going anywhere.

He was going to fill Ivan, his pilots, and his jets with so many holes that he couldn't help but smile at the thought of watching his victory fall right out of the sky and into the water in front of him.

Alfred climbed up behind them, yelling at them to hurry up, not hearing the men on radar duty call for him. Once he got outside, the ship was surrounded by at least twenty other ships, none of them American. Did no one call for assistance? Wait a sec, why didn't anyone tell him that there were so many damn Russians around them? And how did they get there so fast! He noticed the big fire at the side of the ship, from whatever Ivan dropped onto it. He told a bunch of crewmembers to go put it out.

The six jets landed on the airstrip of the ship without permission and their pilots jumped out almost immediately after they stopped. There was a silence, as no one had been ordered to fire or attack the other side yet.

Ivan threw his helmet into the plane and began walking towards Alfred, the five others staying far behind. Alfred nervously examined Ivan as he walked to him to meet him in the middle of the deck, wanting to put his hand on his gun for comfort, but didn't want to look weak and overly cautious, so he kept his hands down. Ivan had a walkie-talkie in his hand.

"Are ya scared that you're gonna have to call an' ask someone else to fight for you?" Alfred called out, pointing to the walkie-talkie, to the tall Russian who was now frowning. Alfred proudly stood in front of him, even though he was a little bit shorter.

"You know vhy I am here." He spoke, anger sprinkling itself on top of his sweet-sounding words.

"I'm never going to give into you, Ivan, you know that."

" I really don't vant to hurt that pretty face of yours, Alfred." He smiled a little, which was starting to scare Alfred now.

" Hahahaha!" He laughed, his nervousness being replaced by adrenaline. Seeing himself being surrounded by the enemy, so outnumbered that it wasn't even funny, it felt so damn good. Maybe starting this war was a good thing. He missed fighting Ivan.

"What makes you think that you could hurt me in the first place?"

"I know you are not that stupid. You know your basic math. You are outnumbered. Even if I, for some reason, could not hurt you at all, somevone here could-…no…_vill_ hurt you."

Alfred pulled out his handgun from his belt and pressed the end of it on Ivan's throat.

"That'd only happen if I gave all the other commies like you a chance."

"Oh? So you're in control of this battle?" Ivan asked, raising one eyebrow at him. Alfred could see his gun's reflection in Ivan's eyes,

"Damn right."

"I see. We vill have to work this out, da?"*

Ivan quickly landed a blow to Alfred's stomach, making him pull his arm back and over his stomach, bending over in pain.

"Gah..! D-Damn you..C-commie…bastard!" He screamed at him and stood up, aiming his handgun while trying to control his shaking hands, behind Ivan for one of the other five Russian pilots and shot him right in his head, the blood splattering all over the deck behind him.

"Нападение!"** One of the other pilots screamed at the top of his lungs into his walkie-talkie. It came through to the one in Ivan's hand and he quickly and angrily spoke Russian back into it as if he were saying something like " What the hell are you doing!", but someone from another ship started firing at the Americans, and Alfred took that as his cue to start firing back. The Americans were yelling angrily at the Russians shooting at them, yelling at their Captain for permission too.

"Shoot their communist heads off, men! Make sure there's nothing left of them!" He shouted, hoping that at least most of them heard him. Obviously, they had no problem in hearing that command, besides the communist part. But being American-made, they were entitled to not give a damn and just kill them anyway, communist or not.

The sailors began shooting back, none had been wounded yet on either side, with the exception of that one dead pilot...

"Vhat are you doing, Alfred!"

" I told you what would happen!"

They both screamed over the gunfire and the yelling of everyone else. Ivan looked away for a second and Alfred punched him in his jaw.

"Pay attention to me, bastard, or I'm gonna kill you!"

Ivan's violet eyes burned with all kinds of anger that Alfred was sure that he himself had felt at least once in his life, but seeing them on someone else, and all at once, scared the crap out of him right now.

"Shit..!"

Before Alfred could think something else, Ivan's gloved fist came at his face. Alfred miraculously dodged it, feeling super kickass, until he glanced down to see Ivan's leg coming up to kick him. He tried to move backward but his body was frozen in place, and he could only close his eyes. He flew backwards and onto his back, bullets flying above his bright blonde head. He opened one eye to glance around, feeling the pain in his stomach double. His gun was on the edge of the deck now to his left.

"You pathetic American…" Ivan kicked Alfred in his ribs, hearing a few cracks, Alfred feeling like he was really going to die.

" I hate you, Ivan!" America shouted before he started gasping for air under Ivan's foot on his chest.

"Oh, I know . It makes this a lot more fun ,knowing that."

Alfred ,who was still choking and unarmed, wanted to cry. He blinked away some tiny, heroically tiny tears and noticed that Texas was still there in front of his eyes. He wasn't about to let some commie bully him into submitting so easily! If Texas could candle a whole country by itself, think what The United States of America could do!

His confidence skyrocketed, just like the movies, he thought to himself.

Alfred clung to Ivan's ankle and began to twist it the wrong way.

"A-Alfred, quit making this harder than it already is!" he yelled down at him, trying to keep his balance as the angry American under him struggled for air and strength to break Ivan's ankle.

"I-I'm not g-gonna…let you…get away with b-being…like this…!" Alfred shoved Ivan off of him, without breaking his ankle or even sending him flying or falling, just backwards a few steps.

Alfred coughed out a bunch of saliva and hardly any blood, so he figured that he was okay, before he could get up, Ivan kicked him to the edge of the deck.

"Gah!"

A bunch of sailors left their stations to run to Alfred on instinct.

"G-Guys! Don't-!"

It was already too late. Those frightened eyes of those newbies, especially Mark, who hadn't know him for very long, stared into him as they were shot down. Tears fell with them, their bodies being in an extreme state of shock, shaking in a puddle of blood.

Alfred had never, _ever _had someone die on this ship, nor any other ship he commanded.

"I hate you too, Alfred." Ivan's voice brought Alfred out of the slow motion scenes playing around them. Alfred could say nothing back at him.

A dull pain set into his chest, and in his stomach. Maybe it was just the pain?

Ivan's heart pounded against his chest, forcing the blood in his veins to bounce around and make his body heat up more and more, making it uncomfortable to stand still. He brought back his leg and easily kicked Alfred off the side of the ship. For a split second, he wished that he hadn't done it.

In a fraction of that split second, Alfred reached out and grabbed Ivan's leg, pulling him down with him.

Neither one of them screamed as they plummeted down the side of the U.S.S. Eaglewing , as if this had been a daily routine. They just glared at each other, waiting for the deep, dark, and icy cold ocean to consume them and possibly kill them both.

There was only a flash of blue and white, a loud crash, and then a second of silence before they both registered what was happening around them.

For a moment, all that Alfred could hear was the guns outside, muffled by the water around his ears. He couldn't see, since the bubbles and waves crashed around him. He couldn't breathe, for obvious reasons, and miraculously, Texas was still hooked on the back of his ears. He instantly looked up, once most of the white bubbles fizzed away, and saw the sun through the water, shining down on him. He held onto Texas and started to swim back up, watching the water get brighter and brighter until he finally came back up above the surface, gasping for air. He realized that the coldness of the Arctic water must have been numbing the pain that he should have been feeling in his chest.

He looked around, adjusting Texas, then took it off to put it inside of his coat pocket, and buttoned it. He didn't want Texas sinking to the bottom of the ocean!

He wondered if Ivan had drowned. Those pilot's cover jackets weren't exactly made for the ocean.

He felt a cold, gloved hand around his neck, and he whipped his head around to see Ivan, no longer wearing the big pilot's cover jacket, just his normal onyx-black military-commander uniform, lined with velvet-red and gold.

"L-Let go of me, Ivan!" Alfred struggled.

"Not a chance, Mister America." Ivan locked his legs around Alfred's and took a breath before forcing him below the water without a warning.

Alfred squirmed for air under Ivan, choking on the water. Ivan watched Alfred's last bubbles of breath go up past his face. Alfred relaxed and went limp under him, and a feeling of disappointment came over Ivan. He wished that his death could have been more bloody and on land, but he wasn't going to let this good of a chance go by so easily. He would get over it, like he did with everyone else.

He pulled Alfred closer to him, hearing a rumble in the water. He swam back up, carrying Alfred on his back and could only hear the gunfire outside. He had just killed the top World Power…he wasn't about to let him just sink and rot. No, he wanted to show everyone what he did—he paused, furrowed his eyebrows and put his head back underwater, the rumbling getting louder.

"Strange…what is that…?" he said as he thought of what to do next and how to stop everyone from firing anymore. There was no point in more deaths.

Suddenly, a giant silver disc ,with bright green and purple lights on the edges, shot up out of the water without making a splash or making the water move at all.

Ivan gasped ,choking on water, and had to focus on staying above it.

What the hell just happened? Was that some secret attack by the Americans? He had heard that they had some secret machines for the air that they were planning to use soon, so was this it?

The disc hovered over him for a moment, then whizzed by the ship and above it, then it zoomed away, almost instantly disappearing.

"Did that really just happen…?" He whispered to himself.

The water moved quickly under Ivan, and it pulled him and the (supposedly) dead Alfred underwater.

Ivan knew what America felt like just recently. He had no air in his lungs whatsoever because he was caught off guard. Just before he could feel really guilty, another disc came up from under them, much bigger than the last, much bigger than the ship, shooting up into the air with both of them on top. He slipped on the wet surface and a change in the pattern of the ship made him gasp.

Ivan clung to America and a small rod on the side of the disc that looked like a door handle. His hands felt like solid bricks of ice on the ends of his wrists, begging him to let go of Alfred and the handle.

His hair whipped around his face as he struggled to keep them both up. He looked down at the tiny ships below, then, feeling sick to his stomach, he looked back to the handle, hoping it was some kind of door.

Ivan quickly examined the disc's side and noticed a small line that looked like the side of a door. He smiled and tried to pull it open but it didn't budge.

"Dammit…"He looked around and noticed that they were going horizontally, instead of shooting up into the sky, and they were going slower now.

He heard some strange sound that made him cringe, like nails against someone else's skin, the feeling when you've bitten your nails down and you scrape them against a chalkboard or porcelain…it went up his spine and made him shiver, close his eyes tight, a strange sensation in the back if his neck and teeth made him want to cry.

It kept going and going, a screeching that made him want to scream out and make it stop. He opened one eye and saw a bright green and red laser being fired at him from a small gun that was sticking out of the side of the door, connected to a green and brown hand.

"Wh-What in the hell…!" Ivan asked aloud before he lost all consciousness, feeling his hands give as he fell down with his greatest enemy.

A/N: Fail ending is fail Dx

*: "I see. We vill have to work this out, da?"

Ah, well, I would have put a v on "we" but I thought it sounded too much like a vampire. The good kind, lol.

** "Нападение!" : Attack!

Pronounced : "Na-pa-den-ee-yeh!" I believe. If I'm wrong please tell me~!


End file.
